“Dengue fever, Johnny.”
“Dengue fever?” Johnny had heard the name before, but couldn’t immediately recall the details. Johnny looked confused for a moment as he tried to remember what little he had read about the disease. “Dengue fever!” Johnny exclaimed, his eyes widening in disbelief. “Doc, how can I have Dengue fever? I was in Mexico, not Asia.”
“Joe and I did some research during the night. Over the past few years there have been several cases of Dengue reported in some of the areas you visited. Barring the results of your blood cultures, that pretty much confirmed what both of us already suspected. A specific family of mosquito carries the virus that causes the disease. The virus is most common in the tropics but it has spread to other areas, including Mexico. Do you remember getting bitten, Johnny?”
“Yeah, I got lots of bites. I didn’t think much of it at the time though.” John wove a shaky hand through his hair. “So what happens now?”
“Well Johnny, as I said, you’re lucky. Dengue fever can sometimes develop into very serious conditions called Dengue Hemorrhagic Fever or Dengue Shock Syndrome, and both conditions require hospitalization. However, you show no signs of either infection. The preliminary blood tests showed your hematocrit levels are normal, and you tested negative on the tourniquet test.”
The doctor paused, letting the information be absorbed by the men in front of him. “There’s no treatment for Dengue fever. It’ll run its course in about seven days, sometimes even less. The best thing is to treat the symptoms, so you’re comfortable… and make sure you get plenty of fluids and rest. The virus is only transmitted through the mosquito vector, so there's no chance of it being contagious…as long as you stay away from tropical mosquitoes.”
“Can I go home then?” Johnny inquired hopefully.
“There’s nothing we can do for you here... but Johnny...,” Brackett hesitated a beat, his internal search for the appropriate words evident on his face. “... I understand that you’re living alone right now?”
“Yeah, Doc,” Johnny replied, obviously disliking the conversation’s current direction.
“You’re gonna need somebody to stay with you. Dengue fever isn’t fatal, but you’re still a very sick man... and the symptoms may get worse. One of the more dangerous symptoms is anorexia. I need someone to make sure you’re eating something, and drinking a lot, even when you have no appetite. The headaches and muscle pain can sometimes get so severe that you may not want, or even be able, to get out of bed. Someone’s got to always be there to take care of you.”
Roy, who had stayed silent through the exchange thus far, finally spoke up. “I’ll stay with him, or he can stay at my house. It’s up to you, Johnny. I was already planning on taking my next shift off to finish the work around my house, so that’s at least five days I’m available.”
“No, Roy,” Johnny exclaimed adamantly. “I mean, Doc, if I’m that sick shouldn’t I stay in the hospital?”
“Johnny, of course, you're welcome to stay, but unfortunately it will have to be on your own dollar.”
“Oh, man. I really can’t afford that....”
“Well Johnny,” Roy interjected. “Unless you get any better offers, it seems you’re stuck with me. I guess you’ll want to stay at your place?”
“No...,” Johnny sighed dejectedly. “If we’re at your house at least you can still work on the floors and stuff.”
“Okay, it's settled then,” announced Dr. Brackett. “Johnny, we have you on Tylenol right now. I want you to keep taking two Tylenol every four to five hours until the fever breaks. The Tylenol will keep your fever down to a lower, more comfortable level and help with the pain. Roy, I want you to make sure he does this. If the fever goes up again, he’s going to feel a lot worse. Johnny, I’ll give you a prescription for Tylenol 3, but I only want you to take it if the pain gets really bad.”
“What about the nosebleeds, Doc?” Roy asked with concern.
“Minor bleeding phenomena do sometimes occur with Dengue Fever. I suspect the aspirin he took before going to bed aggravated the bleeding. That’s why I only want him to take acetaminophen, no aspirin or any other anticoagulants. As I said, there’s no indication that Johnny has the hemorrhagic form of the fever.”
The barrage of information was too much for Johnny to digest in his current state. The effort of paying attention, combined with the growing anxiety of what awaited him in the next seven days, had manifested into a swirling ball in his already upset stomach. “Doc, I’m feeling real sick to my stomach right now.”
“Nausea and vomiting are also common with Dengue. We’ll give you a shot of Compazine for your stomach before you leave. I’ll give you two prescriptions for Compazine in case you need it at home... One in pill form and the other in suppository, in case you can’t keep pills down. I’ll also prescribe a sleeping pill, because insomnia can sometimes occur with Dengue fever. So far you haven’t seemed to have any trouble sleeping, so only take it if you need it. ”
Dr. Brackett wrote Johnny his prescriptions, and told him he’d be back soon with his discharge papers and final instructions.
“Johnny,” Roy said once the Doctor had left. “Why don’t I go over to the pharmacy and get your prescriptions while you’re waiting?”
“Oh… um… sure, okay… thanks. But… uh… Roy?”
“Yeah?”
“I... I don’t think I need all of them just yet.”
“What do you mean?”
“It's just… well… I… I don’t want to spend money to pay for meds I won’t use. I don’t need two kinds of Compazine. I haven’t even thrown up! The pills are all I need. And… and… the sleeping pills… I haven’t had any trouble sleeping at all… like the Doc said. I’ll get them filled if I need them… but I probably won’t… so there’s no use in me wasting money on them now. I… I just need the codeine and the nausea pills for now.”
“Well, okay… if you say so. “
Within the hour, Johnny was relieved of nausea through the promised injection of medication, dressed, discharged, and settled into the passenger seat of his Rover. They left Rampart, heading first to John’s apartment so they could gather anything he needed for his stay at Roy’s place.
Johnny was feeling drowsy from the medication, but tried his best to remain awake for the duration of their trip. He loathed being sick. He realized that most people shared that sentiment, but Johnny got sick more often than the average person... and he especially hated that.
With Johnny’s spleen removed after his hit-and-run accident, it left him with a compromised immune system, and he was rarely spared whenever a cold or flu spread through the department, hospital staff, or the general public. Most of these illnesses were mere annoyances, and he usually worked through them… but a few had been more serious. He’d only been seeing Elizabeth for a couple of weeks when he was struck down by a severe case of pneumonia, and she’d moved in to care for him while he was sick. The arrangement agreed with both of them so much that they decided to make it permanent once John was feeling better.
“So you’d rather voluntarily stay at Rampart, then spend a week with me?” Roy said with a chuckle. “Am I that bad as company?”
“Roy, it's not that. I just don’t want to impose on you or anyone else. If I’m so sick that I can’t take care of myself, then I should be in the hospital.”
“It doesn’t always work like that, you know.”
“Roy, do mind if we don’t talk for a while? It’s making my headache feel worse.”
They drove to Johnny’s house and gathered what was needed, only breaking the silence when absolutely necessary.
Back at the DeSoto house, Johnny settled into Chris’s bed with the knowledge that Roy would be waking him up in a few hours for another dose of Tylenol.
* * * * * * * *
Roy wished he didn’t have to disturb John’s respite. The lines of pain and fatigue were smoothed from his friend’s face during sleep. However, letting Johnny sleep would only result in him waking up to unmasked pain and fever when the acetaminophen left his system.
Roy nudged him awake. He helped him sit up and handed him the two white pills and a glass of water. Without saying a word, Johnny swallowed the Tylenol and quickly resumed his place on the pillow.
Roy remembered he still had a phone call to make. He had already spoken to Joanne and Chet, but Hank Stanley’s phone had continuously gone unanswered.
After letting it ring many times, Roy gave up and returned to some hand-sanding to his living room floor.
* * * * * * * *
Later that afternoon Johnny woke up, feeling fairly decent for his condition, and rather bored lying staring up at the ceiling of an eleven-year old’s bedroom. He found Roy in the kitchen, stirring a pot on the stove.
“Hey, Johnny. How are feeling?”
“Not too bad.”
“Bored yet?”
“Yeah, kinda,” Johnny said glumly.
“I’ll move the TV into your room. I checked the TV guide, and it looks like there’s a ball game on today.”
“Thanks, Roy.” Johnny smiled in appreciation.
“How does chicken soup sound?”
“Aw Roy, I’m really not hungry.”
“I know you're not. But you still have to eat. Doctor’s orders.”
“Okay, whatever you say. I can go set up the TV. The stand has wheels, doesn’t it? I’ll do that right now.”
Johnny was back in bed, propped on a bunch of pillows, when Roy joined him. Smiling when he saw that Johnny had brought in a cushioned chair and placed it beside the bed, Roy handed Johnny a mug of soup and sat down. Johnny managed to drink most of the soup at Roy’s urgings.
Sometime during the fourth inning, Roy glanced over and saw Johnny had fallen fast asleep. He turned off the TV and quietly left the room.
* * * * * * * *
Johnny’s mind fought desperately to stay asleep, but his body was urgently pulling him to awareness with such force that when sleep finally relinquished its hold, he awoke with a gasp and jolted to a sitting position. The involuntary action triggered yet another, and as he sat up, the violent nausea, which had awoken him, rose with his body and spilled over.
Johnny clasped a hand over his mouth and dashed to the bathroom before his body could betray him into creating an even larger mess. He made it to the toilet just in time to forcefully retch and vomit a second time… and a third time.
He gasped for breath and rested his cheek on the cool porcelain of the toilet seat. He closed his eyes and tried to calm his breathing.
He was a mess, the bed was a mess, and he wanted nothing more than to crawl up into a ball on the floor and die. Gage allowed himself to rest a few minutes before he had to begin the cleaning processes that would eventually lead to blissful slumber in fresh boxers and sheets.
Johnny had no idea how long he had been asleep, when he felt Roy lift his head from bathroom floor and dab his face with a cool washcloth.
“Roy, leave me alone. Jus’ lemme sleep. I’ll... I’ll clean it all up in the morning.” Johnny grumbled weakly.
“Johnny,” Roy said, ignoring the protest. “Its all over you. It’s in your hair. Let's get you in the tub and rinse you a bit. The smell will just make you sick again if its not cleaned up.”
To his horror, Johnny found that he didn't have the strength to argue. With a resigned sigh and a clenched jaw, he let Roy guide him into the tub, turn on the shower, and rinse away his last bit of dignity.
The entire episode was too draining and left Johnny shaking and nearly unable to stand. Roy handed Johnny a towel, and placed an arm around his waist for support as they returned to Johnny’s temporary bedroom.
Oh man, the bed.
“Don’t worry,” Roy said, as Johnny tensed up. “I already changed the sheets.”
It just gets better and better....
Roy insisted on spending the rest of the night in the chair by the bed, armed with a plastic pail, telling Johnny that he didn’t want him out of bed unless absolutely necessary. Much to his continued chagrin, Johnny had to ask Roy for the bucket a couple times during the night.
* * * * * * * *
Roy was making a sandwich for lunch when the doorbell rang. He was surprised to find Hank Stanley on his front porch.
“Cap, what are you doing here? Didn't Chet call you?”
“No, Roy, what wrong? I thought I was supposed to come over and help you with your renovations. I brought my sander for the floor. You look terrible. Are you sick, pal?”
“No, it’s Johnny that’s sick, not me. I was up half the night with him. Why don’t you come in, I’ll tell you about it. I just made coffee.”
Roy filled Stanley in on all the details of the last few days. As originally promised, heas more than willing to stay and help out.
“So how is John feelin' now?" Stanley asked with concern.
“Not too bad, considering. He managed to keep down his anti-nausea pills and Tylenol this morning and he’s just been resting and watching TV all day.”
“You think it would be okay if I said hello?”
“Yeah..., why don’t you come with me now? It's time for more Tylenol, anyways.”
Roy and Stanley entered Chris’ bedroom to find Johnny awake and watching a game show through bleary eyes. John informed them that he had already remembered to take the Tylenol. Under Roy’s watchful eye, Johnny drank the ginger ale that Roy had left earlier, and handed back the empty glass. Roy left to return the glass to the kitchen, leaving his friend alone with Stanley.
Johnny smiled weakly, glad to see his Captain, although not really in the mood for a visit. Johnny had just thrown up not long ago, and he was beginning to feel queasy again.
“Hey, John, how are doing?”
“I’ve been better. Sorry I won’t be able to work for a while.”
“There’s no need to apologize, John. If there’s anything I can do to help, just let me know.”
“Thanks, Cap.”
“Do you need me to get you anything right now? You look like you're hurting.”
“Naw, I... I’m just tired.”
“Well you take it easy, pal. I’ll let you get some rest. I hope you’re feeling better soon.”
Five minutes after Cap left the bedroom, John had to make yet another mad dash to the bathroom, courtesy of his stomach.
* * * * * * * *
Working all afternoon, Roy and Captain Stanley were able to finish sanding all the floors in the dining room and living room and complete a coat of stain, which needed to dry overnight before applying the finishing wax. They were enjoying a dinner of barbecued burgers and beer on the back patio when Johnny appeared at the back door, yelling Roy’s name. Johnny had been asleep when Roy checked fifteen minutes ago to see if he wanted to join them for dinner. Both men jumped up and ran for the door. He had been supporting himself on the doorframe, and they each grabbed an arm.
“The codeine Roy.... I need the codeine. Where is it?” Johnny’s words were terse, obviously spoken through a great deal of pain.
“It’s in the kitchen, I’ll go get it for you. Cap, can you help him back to bed?”
As yet, Johnny hadn't needed the stronger painkiller. Stanley helped Johnny back to the bed, but once Roy returned and handed John the pills, the Captain wandered over to the doorway, sensing his presence was making John even more uncomfortable.
Roy sat on the bed and felt the raging heat on Johnny’s forehead with his palm. “Your fever’s back up. Didn’t you take the Tylenol earlier?”
“Yeah, I took it." Johnny's voice was strained with fatigue. He closed his eyes, trying to shut out the pain. “But I brought it back up about ten minutes later. Damn, my head really hurts.”
“Johnny, you should have let me know,” Roy chastised. “This was why Dr. Brackett said it was so important you keep on top of the Tylenol.”
Johnny’s eyes flew open and fixed on Roy’s. Roy realized they were shining, not just with pain and fever, but also with anger.
“Lay off, Roy!” Johnny snapped as he pushed himself back up to a sitting position. His shaky hands gestured wildly as he continued. “I’m not a child. I know I have to take the damn pills. I took some more right after I threw up, but then I threw up again twenty minutes later. I thought I would have absorbed enough before that, but I guess I was wrong. I’m not stupid, you know.”
“Johnny, take it easy, I’m sorry,” Roy tried to calm his friend. “You’re not stupid, I never said or thought you were. Why don't you take one of these Compazine pills and some more Tylenol now. Then, just close your eyes and try to relax. You’ll be feeling better soon.”
Roy was slightly surprised when Johnny actually did lie back down after taking the pills, close his eyes and visibly relax without further comment. Nonetheless, Roy knew that John’s willingness to immediately settle down was a sign of just how much pain in which his friend was.
Roy left the room, finding that Stanley had quietly retreated to the kitchen to give his paramedics some privacy.
“I’m sorry, Cap.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry for, pal. He’s sick and in pain and he’s angry at his situation. He’s just taking it all out on you.”
“I know that, Cap. But, thanks.”
Cap rubbed his palms together. “How about another burger?”
* * * * * * * *
Waking up the next day was a glorious experience for Johnny. He sat up and saw the sun bursting through the corners of the blinds. The light held only beauty and didn’t hurt his aching head. In fact his head didn’t ache at all. None of his body parts ached. He didn't feel too hot or too cold, and he was neither sweaty nor shivering. He glanced down at rubbed a hand over his bare chest. The strange pink rash that had appeared two days ago had completely vanished.
A huge grin broke out over Johnny’s previously stoic face.
It was over.
John got up and grabbed a towel from the linen closet, whistling all the while. He hopped in the shower, eager to wash away any lingering traces of the previous four days.
By the time Johnny got out of the shower and dressed, he wanted to go back to bed. His spirits weren't diminished, however. Dr. Brackett had told him there was a long convalescence period associated with Dengue fever. Fatigue and weakness would be his constant companion for at least the next couple weeks, and perhaps even months.
A ten-minute rest rejuvenated Gage enough to continue to his original destination -- the kitchen. After four days of absolutely no appetite, not to mention nausea, vomiting and general malaise… Johnny was actually hungry. He wasn't ravenous, or starving like a healthy man would be after eating next to nothing for four days, but just enough so that the thought of a bit of food was appealing.
Johnny took notice of all the changes that had taken place in the DeSoto home. The floors were all finished, the walls completely repainted, and some of the furniture had been moved back into place.
John found Roy finishing a telephone conversation in the kitchen. Roy hung up the phone, and smiled as he turned around and saw Johnny.
“Hey, how are you feeling? Your fever broke last night around nine, so I let you sleep.”
“Man, I feel a hundred percent better.” Johnny demonstrated his happiness with his trademark grin..., but his mirth faltered slightly as a guilty memory pervaded his mind. “Roy, I’m sorry about yelling at you last night, “ Johnny confessed. “Especially with Cap there.... I was feeling really bad, but it's still not an excuse.”
“Johnny, don’t worry about it. I knew it was pain talking… so did Cap.”
Johnny smiled and nodded his head, acknowledging the forgiveness. “You got anything to eat?”
“Hey, help yourself,” Roy chuckled. “I was just on the phone to Brackett. He wanted me to remind you to take it easy… and to remind you that the fever might come back.
“Yeah, yeah I know. Dengue can have a ‘saddle-back, biphasic, febrile pattern’, “ he recited Brackett's words. "But Roy, I feel really good.” Johnny continued talking, as he got a box of cereal from cupboard and poured a full bowl. “The rash is gone, the headache is gone, and my body doesn’t feel like it’s being beat up from the inside out anymore. I mean, I couldn’t possibly feel this good if I was still sick! I know I still have to take it easy for a while, but I wanna go back to my place to rest.”
“Johnny, I’m glad you’re feeling better. But, maybe you shouldn't go home just yet... until we're sure you're over it.... I guess if you'd be more comfortable at your place, I could go with you and sleep on the couch tonight. “
John emitted a loud, dramatic sigh, effectively admitting defeat. “No, no… I can help you finish up with the house today.” He smirked. “All the hard work is done. Besides, I wouldn’t want Joanne mad at me if she comes home to a half-redone house.”
“Joanne would never be mad at you for being sick. She was worried about you. She wanted to rush home and help take care of you, but we both agreed that you probably wouldn’t have been up to dealing with the kids.”
“Yeah,” Johnny agreed and winced as he pictured his worst moments of the last four days being witnessed by Chris, Jennifer and Joanne. He sat down at kitchen table and eagerly attacked his cereal. “You know Roy, it’s not that I don’t enjoy your company, or appreciate your help. It's just that I like to take care of myself... and sometimes a man just wants to relax alone in his own home.”
“I understand, Johnny. We can talk to Brackett tomorrow and see what he thinks.”
By the end of the afternoon, Roy’s home projects were mostly finished. Johnny helped out what little he could, but he tired easily and had to lie down a couple times during the day. The two friends were watching TV in the family room that night when the phone rang. Roy went up to answer it in the kitchen, and came back a few minutes later with a grim look on his face.
“What’s wrong, Roy?” Johnny asked, alarmed.
“Oh, nothing serious. I’ll just have to try and work something out. That was Dwyer. He was going to trade a shift with me so I could be off tomorrow, but he’s not feeling well and doesn’t think he can work it.”
John shrugged. “So, you have to work tomorrow. The house is pretty much done, it’s not that big a deal.”
“It’s not the house I’m worried about, it's you. I don’t know if it’s a good idea for you to be alone for a whole day.”
“Roy, the fever’s been gone for twenty four hours. Except for being tired, I feel fine. And besides, I’m a grown man. I don’t need a babysitter.”
“Maybe if I phone Cap now, he can find another replacement. The problem is we’re short of paramedics right now. I don’t know if he’ll be able to scrounge up two replacements.” Roy paused for a moment, a thoughtful look on his face. “I know... you can come stay at the station tomorrow. I’m sure Cap won’t mind.”
“No, Roy,” Johnny said, while emphatically shaking his head. “No way, I couldn’t stand it.” The thought of him recuperating at the station, his shift mates poking, prodding, fussing and tiptoeing around him was almost enough to make him lose his dinner. “Roy, just go to work. I can stay here. You can call me as much as you like during the shift. I’ll even call you with updates. If anything goes wrong, I know what to do.”
Roy sighed. Johnny had a point. “All right, but I’m going to wake you up tomorrow morning to see if you’re still okay.”
“Good deal, good deal.”
* * * * * * * *
As promised, Roy woke Johnny up in the wee hours of the morning while there was still enough time for him to request a replacement if needed. John, while grumpy, was fever, rash, and pain free.
When Johnny awoke later that morning, he bounced out of bed with enormous enthusiasm. After five days of worried glances, soothing tones and everything done for him without any say for himself, he was finally free.
He had always felt welcome, and loved being in the DeSoto home. But right now the walls seemed oppressive. He had to get out.
Johnny called the station, not wanting Roy to worry if he phoned home and got no answer. The station was apparently out on a run.
Johnny arrived at his place a short time later. He took one look around, and knew any breathing space he found here would be short-lived. As soon as the shift was over, Roy would undoubtedly be coming to check on him. Probably would insist on staying the night, too... until he was sure the fever wasn't coming back.
And now that he had entered the convalescent stage, all his friends would be dropping by to offer any and all assistance they could. As much as he appreciated and loved his friends, right now the thought of constant company was overwhelming. He had to use this little reprieve for all it was worth. He needed to regain a feeling of independence.
Johnny knew exactly how to do it. He remembered how satisfied he felt doing work at Roy’s house. His apartment was still uncharacteristically messy. He decided he would try rearranging some of his furniture once he was done cleaning and organizing. Altogether, it was sure to give him that sense of change and self-accomplishment he was looking for.
After that, he would probably welcome the company of his friends... at least in intervals.
* * * * * * * *
Roy was getting worried. John hadn’t called yet, and every time Roy had gotten a chance to call home between runs, there was no answer. He was about to try one more time when the station phone rang.
“Los Angeles County Fire Station 51, Fireman DeSoto speaking.”
“Hi Roy, it’s me.”
“Johnny, where are you? I’ve been calling you for hours.”
“Roy, don’t worry; I’m fine.”
“Then why didn’t you answer the phone?”
“Oh, well, I’m not at your house. I drove back to my place this morning.”
"You drove home? Are you sure that was a good idea? I thought you were gonna stay at my house one more day."
“Roy, I wouldn’t have driven if I hadn't felt up to it. Besides, it's not that far, and I was careful.” Johnny let out an exasperated sigh. “I just need this time alone in my own place right now. I’ll keep in touch, but I... I really just want to recuperate on my own for a while.”
“Johnny, I…. ” Roy’s sentence was cut off by the klaxons signalling the station to a rescue. “I have to go, but we’ll talk later.”
Johnny hung up the phone receiver. He was slightly relieved that Roy had been toned out mid-conversation. Roy was already none too pleased about Johnny staying by himself for the day. Add to that his decision to drive and his request for no visitors; an argument was a given. Now at least it had been postponed, perhaps even averted.
Johnny spent the rest of the day giving his apartment a thorough cleaning. He was forced to work slowly and took many breaks, but by the end of the day, the place was spotless. He rearranged the furniture in his bedroom and living room, and at the end of the day he was quite satisfied with the results of his efforts.
He fell asleep that night, feeling peaceful, content and secure.
* * * * * * * *
The fire was burning all around Johnny; there was no way out. His air tank was long empty. The heat and smoke entered him with each breath, burning him from inside his body. He wasn’t going to last much longer. He could no longer see through the thick smoke. He tried to remember how he had gotten here, or with whom he had last been…but he drew a blank. The scene held a distinct familiarity, but that awareness offered no help or comfort. There was no one else near, and the fire was too strong for anyone to get to him. John was forced to the ground as something fell on top of him. Searing pain coursed throughout his body. There was a loud crash, followed by a shuddering crack beneath him…and then he was falling as the floor gave way…
Johnny opened his eyes, gasping for breath.
The same damn dream....
And like the last time, the pain, heat and discomfort stayed with him, as his mind made the journey to consciousness. But unlike last time, the feelings of anxiety, dread and daunting isolation still permeated his every breath after waking.
It was back. Not just the fever, but all of it… and he couldn’t do a thing about it.
The pain behind Johnny’s eyes was unbearable. He curled up into a ball and cradled his throbbing head. He tried to calm his uncontrollable shaking. The events of the last five days flashed through his fevered mind. Every moment came back to him in intense detail. And with each memory of pain or discomfort, Roy was there, helping him through it.
Did I really think I could have managed on my own?
Remorse added its tight grip to Johnny's many aches. He had never once said ‘Thank you’ to his best friend during the entire ordeal of the past week.
The guy ran himself ragged taking care of me.... And what did I do? I yelled at him, made it clear I wasn't happy being there, and then took off the first chance I got.
Short hours ago, the walls around him provided asylum. Now they were slowly suffocating him.
He wanted to phone Roy. He needed to phone Roy. But Johnny’s delirious mind believed Roy’s friendship was a privilege he didn’t deserve.
Instead, he stayed curled in a tight ball and tried to derive what comfort he could from his own embrace. John moaned in agony as the pain in his head intensified so much that he was afraid he might pass out. He didn’t have any Tylenol at his house. His pills had been forgotten, and still sat on the DeSoto’s bathroom counter.
Finally, when Gage couldn’t bear it any longer, he reached for the phone. With a hand shaking so severely he needed three attempts, he dialed the number.
It was just before 5:00am. The men of station 51’s A-shift were sound asleep, having returned to the station after a call an hour before. The ring of the phone pierced the air, eliciting more than a few sleepy groans.
“Los Angeles County Fire Station 51, Captain Stanley speaking.”
"Cap? It's John. I... I gotta talk to Roy." The voice on the phone was quiet and rough.
“John, you don’t sound too good. How are you doing?”
“Not… not too good. Cap..., I... I really need to speak to Roy....”
“Okay, hold on.”
Having overheard the brief one-sided conversation, Roy was already up and had crossed the short distance to the phone.
Hank handed Roy the receiver, their equally worried eyes meeting as Roy talked to Johnny.
“Johnny, what’s wrong?” Roy asked anxiously.
“Roy… I… I’m not feeling too good. The… uh… fever’s back…. It really... hurts.”
“Johnny? Are you still at home?”
“Uh… yeah…”
“Okay, Pete and I are coming.”
“No… no, don’t call it in. Don’t bring the squad.”
“Johnny, its five in the morning. Either we come in the squad to help you now, or you wait a few hours until my shift is over.”
“Um…okay…” Johnny’s last word was drowned out by the station’s tones.
“Johnny? I’ve gotta go. I’ll call you another squad.”
“No!” Johnny’s voice carried a desperate edge. “Don’t call another squad. I’ll be fine. Just come by when you’re done. And..., uh… can you bring some Tylenol? I forgot it at your house."
“Okay, Johnny. Take it easy. I'll be there as soon as I can.”
* * * * * * * *
The pain wouldn’t quite let him fall asleep, but Johnny drifted into an altered consciousness, completely unaware of time.
He was, therefore, rather startled when Roy’s face suddenly appeared above him.
“Johnny, can you hear me?”
“Uhn… yeah, yeah.” Johnny blinked and rubbed his eyes. Reality was still slightly elusive. “W-What… What time is it? Is Pete here too? ” John inquired as he tried to get his bearings.
“It’s not quite seven yet. I’m here by myself. Cap arranged it so I could leave a bit early.”
“Oh man, you didn’t have to do that.” Johnny sat up slowly. He started to apologize for waking everyone at the station, but was stopped short by yet another returning symptom. “Oh man… I’m gonna be sick.”
Johnny let Roy help him up, but before they reached the bathroom door, he stopped when he felt the familiar wooziness wash over.
“Roy,” was all Johnny said. He let himself fall into the encroaching darkness, confidant that Roy would catch him.
Johnny didn’t completely lose consciousness, but the dizziness overwhelmed him. Roy managed to catch Johnny before his legs gave way and helped him back to his bed.
It took a couple minutes for the dizziness to subside enough for John to unclench his shut eyes. Seeing Roy sitting next to him, Johnny started to tell him he needed something for pain, but his stomach abruptly lurched and he vomited into a plastic garbage pail that miraculously appeared before him. John fell back to the pillow when he was done.
Roy brought him a wet cloth and a glass of water to rinse his mouth. Roy waited a few minutes for Johnny to recover, then gave him the Tylenol with codeine and some Compazine. A quick run by the Rampart ER, and Brackett had given him what he needed. It would have taken too long to go home and come back.
“Roy,” whispered John. “You gonna stay a while? I need to talk to you.”
“Sure, Johnny. Whenever you're ready.”
John waited for the pain to become tolerable. He was determined to stay awake. He had to apologize for his ungratefulness right away.
But as the pain began to lift, he heard Roy’s voice urging him to rest. The temptation was too great, and John fell into a deep sleep.
* * * * * * * *
Johnny woke up, and found himself alone in the room. Still determined to put things right, he got up in search of Roy.
Roy was lying on the couch in the living room, snoring softly. The TV was on, but barely audible.
Johnny smiled. He pulled the afghan off the back of the couch and covered his friend. He silenced the television, and then sat in the easy chair beside the couch.
John sat contentedly, until he too drifted off.
A hand on his forehead roused Johnny. Roy was about to place a thermometer in John’s mouth, but Johnny stopped it by grabbing his wrist.
“Roy, thank you.” Johnny said looking his friend straight in the eye.
“For what?”
“For… for everything. For taking care of me, even when I didn't show it. I mean it, Roy. I really appreciate it.... I don’t know how you put up with me.”
“Johnny, you’re welcome,” Roy said. He sat down on the sofa. “You would have done the same for me, I think.”
“Yeah, of course I would, but it would be different. The whole burden wouldn’t be on me. You’ve got a family that can take care of you… and... I don’t think you would be as difficult a patient as I am.” John gave a sheepish grin.
The grin quickly faded though, as his pain and nausea once again made an appearance. “Roy, I need to lie down.” John’s voice was now quiet and weak. “I… I need some help.”
Johnny had to lean heavily on Roy on their way back to the bedroom. John curled up under the covers, trying to get some control over his aching body and rolling stomach. Roy brought him some more painkillers, which were eagerly accepted.
“Roy,” John said, after he was sure the pills would stay in his stomach. “Do you mind... hangin' around here for a bit?”
“No, I don’t mind. Just as long as you get some rest.”
“Thanks, Roy.” Johnny’s voice trailed off.
Roy waited until Johnny was sleeping soundly, then turned out the lights and closed the door behind him as he left the room.
* * * * * * * *
One month later....
Johnny strolled into the locker room at 7:30, wearing an enormous smile.
“Good morning! How are ya guys?” he greeted Marco, Mike, Chet and Roy, who were all in various states of undress.
Johnny was bombarded with a barrage of 'Welcome Backs!' and enthusiastic pats on the back.
He quickly changed into his uniform, extremely eager to start his first shift in over a month. With an exuberant flourish, he tapped his Smokey the Bear poster for luck, and shut his locker door.
Very soon the familiar routine settled in as if Gage had never been gone. Johnny couldn’t seem to wipe the smile off his face.
Not long after roll call, Gage and DeSoto left for Rampart on a much needed supply run. The ER was very busy and, according to the harried nurse who signed their supply papers, short staffed. The former and the latter were both due to a nasty flu bug going around.
“Oh, great,” Johnny muttered upon hearing that bit of news from the nurse.
Roy just smiled and thanked the nurse, then headed back to the squad. He could hear Johnny behind him grumbling about his bad luck, and how there was no way he’d be taking anymore sick days in the near future.
But by the time they started back to the station, the minor rant was over. Roy looked over at Johnny in the passenger seat, who was now seemingly lost in thought.
Roy frowned slightly at his partner’s appearance. The actual Dengue fever had run the quintessential seven days, but despite his optimism, Gage had not been spared the prolonged recovery period. Dr. Brackett had finally cleared Johnny for duty a couple of days ago. Johnny's coloring and energy level were right back to normal, but he was still much too skinny... in Roy’s opinion. For a man who was naturally on the thin side, the weight Johnny had lost had been strikingly apparent. Nevertheless, Johnny’s normal appetite had returned full force, and he was already beginning to gain it back.
“I’m glad you’re back, Johnny,” Roy offered.
“Thanks, Roy. Believe me, you have no idea how good it feels to be back.”
They rode silently for a few minutes before John spoke again.
“You know what, Roy? As awful as the whole thing was, something good came of me being sick.”
“Really? What’s that?” Roy inquired with great curiosity and scepticism.
“Well, you remember how messed up I was after I broke up with Liz?”
“Yeah, of course I remember. That’s why you went to Mexico in the first place.”
“I realized that I was way too dependent on Elizabeth. I don’t know… maybe… maybe it was because our relationship first got serious when she was taking care of me when I had pneumonia, and I just got used to letting her take care of everything. I’m just glad I realized how unhealthy the relationship was before it got out of hand.”
“I agree Johnny, but what’s this got to do with you being sick last month?”
“Hold on, I’m getting there, I’m getting there. Man, you can be really impatient sometimes you know.”
Roy just replied with a hand gesture encouraging him to get on with it.
“Okay, so when I got back from Mexico, I told you about my plan to be completely self-sufficient. But, what I didn’t realize was that I was just doing the extreme opposite, you know? That’s not too healthy either. I really thought that I could handle everything on my own… without any help. So when I first got sick, I didn’t want to rely on anybody to take care of me. Not just because I didn’t want to be a burden, but I also thought that I would turn back into the person I was when I was with Liz.
“But the sicker I got, and the more help I needed, the more I realized that being independent doesn’t mean I’ll never need help and that asking for it doesn’t automatically turn me into some weak-minded pushover. And man,” Johnny ran his hand through his hair as if for emphasis, “did I ever need your help at times in the last month, Roy.”
Roy chuckled softly, as a thought occurred to him.
“What's so funny?” Johnny asked.
“It's just that when you first told me about your new plan of total ‘self sufficiency’, I thought it would be some girl that finally brought you back to your senses.”
Johnny snorted genially. “Hey, that reminds me! Who was that redhead we saw talking to Morton in the hall? That chick was gorgeous!”
The abrupt switch from serious soul-searching to ogling cute nurses didn’t faze Roy a bit. He was used to it. “Oh, that’s Sarah. She started working in the ER just about the time you first got sick. I’m pretty sure she’s single.”
“Sarah, huh? I’ll just have to introduce myself next time we’re there.”
Almost a minute went by before Johnny said, “Oh, and thanks Roy.”
Roy wasn’t sure if Johnny was thanking him for supplying the new nurse’s name, taking care of him during his illness, listening to him, something else, or all of the above. But since they were now about to back into the station, he just replied, “Anytime, Johnny. Anytime.”
WRITER'S NOTE:
An enormous thanks goes to E!U and Nan M. I am extremely grateful for all the support and encouragement you both so generously gave. I never would have attempted to write, let alone finish this story without you.
Allison
EDITOR'S NOTE:
It was such an easy collobration with such an enormously talented writer. Can't wait for what she comes up with next!
